Read to Me
by whitetiger91
Summary: There was a reason Bellatrix was never kind. Written for The Houses Competition, Year 2, Round 2.


**Read to Me**

 _ **A/N: This story was written for The Houses Competition forum (go and check it out!)**_

 _ **House: Gryffindor**_

 _ **Year/Position: Third year**_

 _ **Category: Short Story**_

 _ **Prompt(s): 3. [Prompt] Random Act of Kindness.**_

 _ **Word count: 1986 words (according to Google docs)**_

 _ **I'd like to thank my wonderful betas Alana (Divergent4Everdeen), CK (Theoreticaloptimist) and Shay (ipsa dixit), as well as my lovely Gryffindor teammates and TGS Snitched Sisters for helping listen to plot ideas.**_

 _ **This story is dedicated to my amazing new friend, Alana!**_

 ** _Thank you for reading this, and I hope my little joke towards the end wasn't too... distasteful ;) (I'm sorry, it was getting too dark; I couldn't help it)._**

* * *

 _There was a reason she never did anything kind._

"1, 2, 3…"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. Sometimes she forgot just how gullible her younger sister could be; when she had said that she wanted to play hide and seek, she hadn't actually meant it. The blonde seemed to forget that every single time she offered to play, Bellatrix would slip away, returning only when her mother made her fetch Narcissa from the bed she always hid under. As it were, she could see the girl's shoes poking out from under the sheets, a small giggle emanating from the darkness underneath.

"20, 21, 22…"

Continuing to count, she slowly crept from the room. The giggles grew louder as Narcissa no doubt thought her hiding place was undiscoverable.

Still, Bellatrix didn't mind it all that much; it was nice to have some time to herself. Andromeda had gone off to Diagon Alley with their parents, dumping their little sister in her care. The wretched house-elf was there, of course, but it was probably still on the third floor, attempting to rid itself of the glittery makeup that Narcissa had forced on it. All Bellatrix had really wanted to do was to take the opportunity of her parents' absence and explore the rooms that were 'off limits.'

Humming to herself, she wandered down the hallway towards her father's study. It seemed like a logical place to start. Although she had been in there before, it had never been without her father, and certainly never enough time to properly investigate. He would always shoo her off after he finished reprimanding her about whatever latest _faux pas_ she had committed before sealing the room shut with a curse behind her.

"Bellatrix, is that you?"

The raven-haired girl stopped in her tracks and sighed. In her eagerness to get to the study, she had forgotten to tiptoe past the guest bedrooms.

"Yes, Grandmama?"

"What are you doing gallivanting around out there for, child? You sound like a herd of Hippogriffs! Come in here," the old woman said.

Heaving another sigh, Bellatrix turned towards the nearest bedroom. Pushing the door open, she walked in to see her grandmother propped up in bed. The woman's beady black eyes were staring at her, her thin lips pursed.

"I wasn't _gallivanting_ , Grandmama." The woman's eyes narrowed, and Bellatrix resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I was simply coming down here to check up on you."

Her grandmother harrumphed. "You can help me by keeping quiet. Little witches are meant to be seen and not heard, you know—or, better yet, remain completely invisible."

Bellatrix huffed; the witch was quite the hypocrite when it came to behaving. Bellatrix was sure she had seen a sepia-toned photograph of her grandmother as a child, making faces at the photographer as the rest of the family posed with straight backs and equally straight faces. Who was she to lecture her on what girls should or should not be doing?

"Ready or not, here I come, Cissy!" Bellatrix called. With an eye on her grandmother, she shrugged. "Well, I'll let you get back to your sleep."

She took a step backwards, sure that her grandmother's face would light up in relief. Or rather, that the woman would at least snort and say something biting. When Bellatrix looked at her, however, her face seemed to fall. The woman was gazing at her bedside table, and a small, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips.

Bellatrix followed her gaze, not quite sure what the problem was. The surface of the table was littered with various pills and potions, each in nasty shades of green, blue and orange. The girl screwed her nose up at the medicine; she was certainly not jealous of anyone who had to consume them on a daily basis.

The only other item on the table was a book, and it seemed to be what her grandmother was staring at.

Looking back out the door, Bellatrix groaned. Playing with Narcissa was actually beginning to look like fun, and was certainly much better than what she was about to do.

Closing the door, she turned and walked over to the bed. Her grandmother blinked as Bellatrix picked up the book and, careful not to get too close to the woman, sat on the edge of the bed.

"What do you think you are doing, child?" the woman asked.

"Reading to you," Bellatrix said.

She couldn't really blame her grandmother for being surprised. After all, the only reason she put up with being within five metres of the woman was that her mother forced her to; Grandmama Rosier was rich beyond anything even the Blacks knew. Perhaps it was because the woman held such status that Bellatrix couldn't bring herself to let the woman act so helpless.

She opened the book to the page that was marked and squinted. The words were all in a fine print, many unrecognisable, but her tutor had taught her enough to understand most of the text.

Her grandmother scoffed. "Are you even capable of reading yet?"

Bellatrix smirked. "I'm much more capable than you without your spectacles."

The woman pursed her lips again, her nostrils flaring. Bellatrix was sure the woman would smack her for her cheek, but she simply folded her arms.

"Fine, but read slowly. And pronounce your words clearly. And sit up straight. I find it absolutely intolerable when a witch or wizard mumbles."

This time, Bellatrix didn't care if the woman saw her roll her eyes. Clearing her throat, she began to read, inwardly cursing herself for not sticking with Narcissa's childish game.

* * *

 _People expected too much when she was kind._

Bellatrix's movements were soft and quiet. Each time her foot landed too heavily on the floorboard, she would cringe and close her eyes, waiting for the moment that she would be discovered.

She only had a few more steps to go, though, and she would be safe.

"Found you!"

Pressing a hand to her heart, Bellatrix whipped around. Lifting a finger to her lips, she glared at the blonde. "Shhh!"

Narcissa tilted her head. "But I—"

"Shhh!"

"Bella, you told me to—"

"Shut. Up," Bellatrix hissed.

"Bellatrix, is that you?"

Bellatrix closed her eyes and sighed. "Yes, Grandmama," she said, opening her eyes again and resuming glaring at the blonde. Narcissa's blue eyes began to well with tears, and she softened her expression. "Quick, go and hide. It's my turn to find you."

"Come in, child," her grandmother called.

Narcissa smiled and nodded. She scampered down the hallway, and Bellatrix wished she could follow. With a groan, she turned on her heel and walked into the bedroom.

Her grandmother was sitting up in the bed again, the book from the week before propped open on her lap.

"You're late," the woman said.

"We never agreed I would come," Bellatrix said, walking over to the bed.

Her grandmother turned a sharp eye to her as she sat down. "What was that?"

Biting her tongue, Bellatrix took the book. Just as she had every day that week, she deeply regretted her momentary lapse in judgement in picking up the book in the first place. Nevertheless, her reading was improving, and her grandmother was less horrid than usual.

"Tabitha rested her hands—"

"You're mumbling again," the woman snapped.

Well, just a little bit less horrid.

* * *

 _She never did anything kind because sometimes, she enjoyed it._

"I cannot believe Elsie would behave in such a manner," Bellatrix said, shaking her head. She had always identified with the character of Elsie the most, but even she wouldn't have done _that._

Beside her, her grandmother snorted. "Don't look so askance. I knew a witch from my own school days that did much worse, let me tell you."

"I thought people were supposed to be all proper in the early nineteenth century," Bellatrix said.

The woman's eyes narrowed and she gave Bellatrix a light tap on the forearm. "They were, just as they were when I was in school. In the _early twentieth_ century."

She gave a small giggle, her laughter only increasing as her grandmother raised her eyebrows.

"Bella, do you want to come outside?" a soft voice called.

Bellatrix looked over at the door. Andromeda was holding Narcissa's hand, and although her gaze kept darting warily over to their grandmother, she had a small smile on her face.

"Please, it's a nice day," Andromeda said.

It had been raining for the last two weeks now, and Bellatrix had all but prayed to have one day where her clothes were not soaked as soon as she stepped out the door. She wanted to have adventures, to run about and smell the fresh air.

Glancing at her grandmother, however, she shook her head. "No, thank you," she said.

She was sure that her sisters were looking at her as though she had done something just as shocking as Elsie had, but soon their footsteps could be heard out in the hallway. Beside her, her grandmother opened her mouth to say something, but Bellatrix held up the book.

She _had_ wanted to go and have adventures, but now those adventures lied within the pages of their novel and somehow, that was even more exciting.

* * *

 _Being kind was just a waste of time._

She knew that her grandmother detested little girls running, but this time she didn't care. Her pace increased as she headed to the guest bedroom, a grin on her face and book in her hand.

She had done it!

Her heart raced as she thought back to the moments of the last five minutes, unable to believe what she had pulled off. Her parents had been busy organising something or other, their voices hushed and movements frantic, but they had still been in the house. Bellatrix had been just as quiet when she had snuck into her father's library, unpicking the lock without the use of magic. She had gotten the idea from the book she had been reading, too. Almost like a Demiguise, she had crept over to the shelves and plucked out a novel before slipping back out.

Not one person had caught her, and as she held her prize closer to her chest, her grin widened.

"Grandmama, you won't believe what I—" Bellatrix's voice broke off as she pushed the bedroom door open.

The bed was made, the white sheets and comforter pulled tight across the frame. All the potions had been cleared from the bedside table, as had the novel they had finished the night before.

Bellatrix pulled the door closed and continued up the hallway. She could hear voices coming from her father's study. Perhaps her grandmother had finally gotten better? Maybe, just maybe, it had been Bellatrix's reading that helped, too.

With that thought in mind, her heart soared.

"Grandmama!" she called, bursting into her father's study.

Three people turned towards her, none of them her grandmother. Her mother was pressing an embroidered handkerchief to her eyes, her father's hand upon her shoulder. Bellatrix didn't recognise the other man in the room, but her smile faded as she read the flashing badge pinned to his dark robes: _Fortescue's Funerals: A Tasteful Service._

"Bellatrix, how many times have I told you—"

"Where's Grandmama?" she asked, ignoring her father's stormy expression.

Her mother paled, and a few more tears slipped down her cheeks. The wizard in black glanced at her father and cleared his throat, but Bellatrix already knew what he was going to say.

"Nevermind," she said, shaking her head. "I'm off to play with Cissy."

She backed out of the room and shut the door. Her own eyes began to feel hot and heavy, but she refused to show any sign of weakness. As she walked down the hallway, she focused instead on the book in her hands and began to tear out the pages.

 _There was a reason she was never kind._


End file.
